


Have a Little Faith

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Series: The Stories We Tell [5]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: M/M, Post-Battle of Camlann, Post-Canon, Religion, Religious Discussion, faith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: The Company discusses what faith and religion mean, especially given the nature of their quest. The barkeep and the fortune teller at the inn they're staying at have a lot to tell them and not a lot of time.Bedivere starts to realize he can't outrun his past forever. Kai finds himself elected leader of the Company. Mordred begins to ask the right questions.Galahad is handling this remarkably well.(This part is rated for language only.)
Relationships: Bedivere/Kay (Arthurian), Galahad/Mordred (Arthurian)
Series: The Stories We Tell [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608088
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Have a Little Faith

“What I'm saying,” Mordred made sure to speak loud enough so all three knights behind him could hear him, “is that this winter wasn't terrible.”

“It wasn't terrible because we stayed at inns and in disused rooms at lords' houses in exchange for labor,” Kai replied, “Wait until there's a winter in less affluent parts of the land.”

Kai had intentionally steered the party towards lands Arthur had close ties with. The months on the road had not had many breaks, and he was unsure how the constant travel with winter weather added to it would serve his leg.

Erring on the side of caution, he sought comfort.

The lords they visited invariably recognized Bedivere first, then Kai, and did not ask too many questions about their traveling companions.

“Spring is still a few weeks away,” Galahad added.

“No curses,” Bedivere's words were clipped but his tone light, “If there is a blizzard, I am blaming you. Personally.”

“Every time you say something like that I feel both closer and further away from figuring out where your faith lies,” Mordred's frown was apparent in his words.

“I don't think that will matter soon,” Bedivere replied, “what with the Christians coming without weapons this time.”

“It figures,” Kai shook his head, “If at first you don't succeed, send a priest.”

“Or several hundred,” Mordred grumbled, “Back, uh, home? Not home?”

“Back in Orkney?” Galahad suggested.

“Back in Orkney,” Mordred tried again, “there were priests of a different sort making their way from the north.”

“Followers of a different set of gods?” Kai asked.

“Very different,” Mordred confirmed, “Warriors, yes, but priests and journeymen and families as well.”

“Sounds like they're either fleeing or invading,” Bedivere observed.

“Can't say I got terribly close to them,” Mordred admitted, “Spent my childhood trying not to be noticed at all and spent my brief time back trying not to get killed by two of my brothers.”

“I've heard bits and pieces,” Bedivere offered, “Many gods, not one, and different manifestations of faith depending on which gods they put more weight on.”

“Sounds interesting,” Galahad said, not sounding as nearly as interested as he could have.

“Sounds complicated,” Kai shook his head, “Two faiths meeting in the middle of an already fragile land.”

“We travel with weapons,” Mordred wasn't worried.

“And they travel with faith to spread,” Bedivere's words carried a weight to them, “We are as likely to be viewed as target practice as we are a threat.”

“We are not hiding the weapons,” Kai was quick to say, “no matter how this war of religions plays out.”

“If it even comes to that,” Galahad slowed his horse so the others could cluster closer together.

“Old faiths in new lands almost always come to blows,” Bedivere told him, “and there is always a winner.”

“What makes you say it like that?” Mordred considered he should, perhaps, be at least a little worried.

“Says the man who doesn't believe in dragons,” Bedivere wasted no time in answering.

“I think what Bedivere is trying to say,” Kai tried to impart some peace before tension could weave its way into the conversation, “is that once things are no longer seen and no longer spoken of with regularity, they become legend rather than faith.”

“How are you defining the difference?” Galahad asked.

Kai's sigh was the only signal that a story was incoming.

–

Arthur stumbled as he thrust his practice sword at Kai.

At thirteen summers, Arthur was only just ending his growth spurt. Despite being nearly as tall as Kai, he was all limbs and no coordination.

Kai sidestepped with ease.

Arthur stumbled forward, not falling but also not catching himself.

“Again,” Kai instructed.

Arthur groaned as he turned around, arms lax and legs heavy.

“I'm never going to get this,” Arthur complained.

“You can't tell yourself that,” Kai lectured his brother, “If you tell yourself that you'll come to believe it.”

“I do believe it,” Arthur whined, “I'm never going to catch up to you, Kai.”

“I have five years on you,” Kai said even though he knew Arthur believed those years would never be made up for.

“You have _skill_ ,” Arthur protested.

“I have _training_ ,” Kai corrected, “Again.”

Arthur got into an offensive stance this time, silently daring Kai to make the first move.

Kai circled Arthur, who kept his guard up as he followed Kai while making a much smaller circle of his own.

Kai tried to wear Arthur down, but when it became apparent that wasn't going to work, he faked a lunge at Arthur's shoulder only to swing low at the last minute, expecting the blow to hit Arthur in the arm.

Arthur jumped back instead of blocked. Kai's swing only hit air.

“Good!” Kai was impressed, “Again!”

“Can't say again if I haven't failed,” Arthur challenged. Kai laughed and slipped back into ready position.

“BOYS!” Ector's voice boomed across the field, “IN!”

“We finish this tomorrow,” Kai said.

“We finish this after dinner,” Arthur sped up Kai's timeline.

–

“Why do you tell some of your stories like you watched them and some like you lived them?” Galahad asked.

“It's easier,” was the only answer Kai gave.

–

Ector had the beginnings of supper on the table – fresh bread, a chicken from the market, already cooked, and an assortment of uncooked fruits.

“Kai, knives, Arthur, cups,” Ector instructed, “One of you, whistle the horses in.”

“Already?” Kai asked.

“It's going to rain something awful tonight,” Ector told them, “and I would rather not have to fetch them in a storm.”

“I'll get them,” Kai didn't argue further.

“Knives first, **Kai** – damn you, boy!” Ector called, but Kai was already halfway out the door.

“He's always cared more about the horses than chores,” Arthur told Ector.

“Horses are chores when they're not being used,” Ector shook his head, “but he does have an affinity for them.”

“A what?” Arthur was unfamiliar with the word.

“A natural draw and talent,” Ector explained, “Kai, there you are, get the knives. I'm not going to tell you again.”

“Horses were already under their main shelter,” Kai rolled his eyes, “all I had to do was shut the gate.”

“I was just telling your brother you have an affinity for horses,” Ector told Kai.

“They're good company,” Kai said as he grabbed their dinner knives, “and I've never really had to work at them, just with them.”

“When you're my age you will be the finest horseman in the kingdom,” Ector told Kai, “assuming you can stop and listen long enough to serve in the king's armies.”

Ector cuffed Kai on the back of the head lightly. Kai laughed and swatted his father's hand away.

“Is that something special?” Arthur asked.

“Sure is,” Ector nodded, “Horsemen in the King's armies need to become an extension of their animal and have their animal be an extension of themselves. Takes quite a lot to stay on a horse in battle.”

Arthur looked thoroughly impressed as he set the glasses on the table. “What about you, dad?”

“I'm no horseman,” Ector laughed, “I can stay on the beasts over long distances, but not when I have to swing my sword.”

“Do you want to be a horseman, Kai?” Arthur asked.

“I don't know,” Kai's reply was noncommittal.

–

“You weren't sure?” even Bedivere had a hard time believing that.

“Not then,” Kai admitted, “It wasn't until I was attacked on the road that I realized how much I still had to learn despite being knighted and having spent my life trying to guide Arthur.”

“On your way to Camelot,” Bedivere realized.

Mordred and Galahad exchanged a brief look. They had yet to hear this story.

Kai nodded slowly. “It was the first time I failed to protect what was mine. If Arthur had been with me instead of with Merlin...”

“Loss is quite a motivator,” Bedivere agreed.

–

Before Ector sat down, he grabbed a pitcher of fresh cream and poured all three of them a glass.

“What's special?” Kai asked, “Not complaining, mind you.”

“Tomorrow's Beltane,” Ector told them, “so the markets are more bountiful than usual with everyone getting ready.”

“Beltane?” Arthur asked.

“It's a holiday,” Ector did his best to explain, “Not one we celebrate, but an important one for those who do, so people need to buy special things.”

“And you just happened to take a detour on your way home,” Kai knew he didn't need to add that, “Which, glad you're home, at least for now.”

Ector's stays at the castle had been getting longer the older the boys got, and as such Kai had been in charge of Arthur almost exclusively. It made his own training much more difficult, but now that he understood exactly who Arthur was and what he would eventually have to do took the edge off that.

“Can we celebrate?” Arthur asked.

“Beltane?” Kai asked his brother.

“We can watch a more public celebration,” Ector told them, “but it is not our holiday to celebrate.”

“Do we have any holidays?” Arthur asked.

“I do not have any holidays,” Ector told them, “but when you get older, you may find some for yourself.”

“Why when I'm older?” Arthur complained, “I like celebrating things.”

–

“Da spent a long time explaining to Arthur that faith-based holidays are not celebrations like feasts for visitors,” Kai shook his head, “I'm not convinced Arthur quite understood, but he did agree that if da took us to watch, he wouldn't try to join in.”

“And did he?” Mordred asked.

“Ector take us or Arthur try to join in?” Kai was teasing.

“Both, I guess,” Mordred blinked a few times.

–

When they arrived, the festival was in full swing. Arthur and Kai had never seen so many people bustling about, but the maypole in the center was still visible from the distance.

Arthur tried to take off to see what everything was, but Ector restrained him with a hand to his shoulder.

“It's all so different,” Arthur said with a deep reverence.

“It's so busy,” Kai looked around himself as he tried not to bump into anyone.

“It's just barely begun,” Ector told them, “We'll walk around so you boys can see everything and then we'll let them celebrate with each other.”

–

“Wait,” Mordred interrupted, “isn't Beltane the...”

“Once with all the fires?” Bedivere bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Well, yes, but also the one with…”Mordred faltered.

“...one with all the fucking?” Kai raised an eyebrow, “Yes, but we didn't know that.”

“The fucking happens at night,” Galahad added, “or at least just after sundown.”

“How do _you_ know?” Mordred asked.

“Father raised by fair folk,” Galahad pointed to himself, “Personally made a very questionable choice to know all the magics my father knew.”

“Oh no...” Mordred's face paled.

“Yep,” Galahad said with a heavy sigh, “Beltane, while not a holiday dedicated to or derived from the fair folk, still has a lot of very strong fair folk magic about it.”

“Fair folk magic is closely tied with druid magic,” Kai explained a little better, “and druid magic, while dying out slowly, still influences a lot of the local faiths.”

“So you're saying that one day druid magic will be regarded as legend?” Mordred was starting to see why Kai had selected this particular story.

“As will fair folk magic, Beltane, and,” Kai paused for dramatic effect, “dragons.”

Mordred frowned but couldn't decide how to respond – or even if he should.

“Beltane ushers in the summer,” Bedivere elected a more scholarly approach to the disjointed explanations, “and, in general, the strongest part of the growing season for plant and animal crops alike.”

“Okay, so a bunch of holiday sex would make sense,” Mordred conceded, “especially if backed by magic and faith.”

“It's meant to strengthen everything,” Kai added, “and it's a little more nuanced and far less cut-and-dry, but yes, that's the absolute bare bones of Beltane rites.”

They rode together in silence for a while, allowing Mordred to consider what he had just learned.

“So wait,” Mordred sat up a little straighter, “these new faiths, the Christians and the one from the north, what's to say they won't fade to legend?”

“Nothing,” Bedivere was first to answer, “and perhaps they will.”

“Perhaps all faith eventually fades to legend,” Galahad added.

“Even if they do,” Kai said, “the Christians were violent the first time around and we aren't more than three or four generations out from pushing them off our shores. People haven't entirely forgotten.”

“Is that why the druid faith is dying?” Mordred asked.

“More than likely,” Kai frowned, “and as much as I genuinely could theorize about which faiths have more sway, we should pick up the pace if we don't want to sleep outside tonight.”

“How far till the next town?” Galahad asked.

“At this pace, well past nightfall,” Kai said, “at a better clip, two, maybe three hours.”

“Damned short days,” Galahad muttered.

Mordred kicked his horse just hard enough to make the beast move along.

–

“I'll see the horses to the stables,” Kai told the others, “Whose turn to pay for rooms?”

“Mine,” Bedivere told him.

“Alright, you know what to do, then,” Kai nodded. He watched his companions walk away for a moment before he took all four animals' reigns and lead them off towards the inn's stables.

Everyone had taken their packs and furs with them, unwilling to leave their personal effects with their horses in an area they had never been before.

“What do they need?” the stable boy asked Kai, looking over the beasts. Kai could tell he was not used to war horses, even questionably trained ones.

“Ideally their own stalls, but they can be stalled together if needed,” Kai told him, “With each other, not other horses.”

“Yessir,” the stable boy said as he rose to his feet, “Food?”

“Hay,” Kai said, “If there is grass that's survived the winter and all this mud, they are free to graze on it, but be aware they have minds of their own if they do not know the hand trying to take them back inside.”

“Understood, sir,” the boy took the leads carefully. Kai watched the boy lead the horses into their own stalls carefully and triple-check the latches when he was done.

“Here,” Kai handed the boy a coin.

“Stabling is paid with the rooms, sir,” the boy did not reach out a hand to take it.

“For your troubles, then,” Kai insisted. The boy hesitated before taking it with a rushed thanks.

Kai shook his head and went inside.

–

“Two of the five empty rooms are ours,” Bedivere told Kai almost as soon as he joined the others at the table. He set his effects down by his feet and found everyone else's belongings there as well.

“Stabling is included with the room cost,” Kai told the others.

“Strange,” Bedivere didn't quite frown, “I asked and they said it was separate.”

“It's because you're warriors,” a woman sitting at the table next to them said, “It isn't often respectable men come this way.”

“You say that as if being a warrior makes a man respectable by default,” Kai was trying to gauge the general situation.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “perhaps not. But it doesn't take more than a look to tell you've served kings and, unless I am mistaken, at least two of you,” she looked between Bedivere and Kai, “served King Arthur.”

“You seem certain,” Galahad tried to feed off Kai's energy.

“Your reputations proceed you,” she said with a laugh, “The one-handed knight whose skill made him worth ten men and the horseman who fights as if the wind itself guides him.”

“It's better than the knight of the kitchen,” Kai shrugged, “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as elsewhere respectable men stay far away from,” she told them, words guarded, “but still not so good that you'll find many people sleep or live alone.”

“And yet, you're alone,” Mordred commented, also trying to gauge her and her intent.

“I fear I am the bulk of the entertainment,” she shook her head, “I can tell you your fortune with just your name, but cannot offer much else.”

They were interrupted with the arrival of four mugs of ale.

“Dinner will be a moment,” the barkeep's voice was rough, “It's almost done.”

“Thank you,” Galahad remembered his social graces first.

“We're early,” Kai observed.

“This town starts early in the morning and goes until well after sundown,” the woman explained, “Give it another hour or so and the tavern part of the inn will be so packed that most people will have to stand.”

“Fortunes,” Mordred tilted his head, “What kind of fortunes?”

“The kind that gives you a map of your soul and points you towards your destiny,” she said with a smile, “if you are bold enough.”

“Bold, no,” Bedivere matched her smile, “but curious and not short of coin.”

“I will need your names, then,” she told them.

“Bedivere,” Bedivere said.

“Your _name_ ,” she repeated.

Bedivere blanched before he could stop himself. “How did you know?”

“I would be a terrible fortune teller if I couldn't tell when someone was lying,” she shook her head.

“Kai,” Kai tried to take the heat off Bedivere, “Mordred, and Galahad.”

“Welsh,” she ran her tongue over her upper teeth, “Very well then, by the time dinner is over, I will have your maps completed.”

She offered an overstated bow as she rose to her feet and disappeared around the corner.

“I don't even know your birth name,” Galahad kept his voice low.

“My name is Bedivere,” Bedivere bit out, “because that's what kept me safe when I could not have stopped Uther's men from killing me had they decided I was going to be a kink in the conversion plans.”

Kai hesitated before reaching a hand under the table and bringing it to rest on top of Bedivere's thigh. He gave a squeeze meant to be comforting. Bedivere frowned but relaxed just enough Kai could tell he'd made the right decision.

“Don't mind Sif,” the barkeep told them, his voice loud in the otherwise empty tavern, “She's good at what she does but doesn't take kindly if she thinks someone wants to cheat her gods.”

“Her gods?” Mordred asked. Galahad pinched the bridge of his nose.

“She's a follower of gods not of these lands,” the barkeep busied himself with trying to scrape what looked like food from the previous night off the bar, “Don't know if she was born to it or found it on her own, but names are sacred to her.”

“So you knew who we were?” Kai asked.

“I suspected,” the barkeep said, “Stories of King Arthur's fall and the knights who survived are starting to trickle through, and you two are spoken of most often. Though to be fair, if two men can fight like they're thirty men, it's only expected that their deeds get carried.”

“Looks like we aren't the only ones telling stories,” Bedivere sighed, “What have you heard?”

The barkeep looks around as if checking they were, indeed, alone.

“We've heard King Arthur's falling will bring war to our shores like never before, and the wars will not stop, will not cease long enough to know who we are as a people, until his return,” the barkeep kept his voice low, as if speaking it loudly would make it irrefutable.

“Where did you hear this?” Kai's eyes narrowed.

“Some wandering druid,” the barkeep shook his head, “paid for a week but only used part of a night before he was on his way again. Left a book behind.”

“I've got a round of drinks saying it was Merlin,” Kai muttered, “When did he come by?”

“Maybe three weeks past?” the barkeep scrunched up his face, “Just after the first big thaw.”

“How did the conversation turn to the King?” Bedivere managed to sound more removed from personal interest than Kai.

“Sif asked for news,” the barkeep shrugged, “and all he spoke about was the coming wars and the need to pick our people well.”

“Your people pick you,” Kai shook his head as if to clear it, “but, thank you for sharing.”

“You believe it?” the barkeep stopped trying to scrape the bar clean to stare at the Company.

“If it was indeed Merlin,” Kai's words were heavy, “yes, unfortunately.”

“I don't know what you men have seen,” the barkeep resumed scraping, “but it must have been terrible to hear of unending wars and not even flinch.”

He turned his back to the Company and busied himself with cleaning even more, leaving the uneven silence to settle.

–

Their dinners were filling but offered no comfort. Knowing that Merlin was so free with his knowledge to a strange fortune teller had implications that needed to be discussed in private.

“It's good,” Mordred tried to fill the silence.

“It's the freshest food we didn't cook ourselves in a long time,” Bedivere agreed.

The first set of patrons besides them crashed through the tavern door, filthy from work and exhausted and ready to turn the tavern into a playground for the things they could not say or do in their normal lives.

A commotion demanding food, ale, the fortune teller, a whore – each demand louder than the last – drowned out the Company's ability to hold a conversation.

Kai made a few brief gestures suggesting they hurry and make their way up to their rooms.

–

“We keep ending up in my room,” Galahad said as soon as the door was shut.

“Our room,” Mordred's reminder was gentle.

Kai sat cross-legged on the floor, his and Bedivere's packs to his one side. Bedivere opted to remain standing, using one of the walls to prop himself us against. His upper back rested against it while the rest of his body avoided contact.

Mordred and Galahad opted to sit on the edge of the room's single bed.

“Assuming it was Merlin,” Bedivere wasted no time, “why would he tell a stranger so much when he always treated giving away his knowledge was less favorable than having his skin stripped from his flesh while still alive?”

“Given his insight,” Kai rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen them, “I would wager he knew we would be here, and that the fortune teller would pass on the information.”

“He only spoke of you two,” Mordred gestured to Kai and Bedivere, “Why do you think that is?”

“After the battle,” Bedivere crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, “Merlin was much faster to address us than Galahad and Mordred.”

“He thought us dead,” Mordred all but spat.

“He was ready to count us among the dead,” Galahad hadn't forgotten the wizard's exact words, “He also thought he had more time, whatever that meant.”

“Kai,” Mordred turned towards the man he was addressing, “You said, when you were between worlds, there were mentions of Arthur slaying dragons or something?”

“Took down dragons,” Kai's words were much more precise, “Why?”

“And Bedivere, you said your father told you the Pendragons of old tamed dragons?” Mordred addressed him directly as well.

“Among other things,” Bedivere's eyes were still closed.

“I think I see what you're getting at,” Kai sat up a little straighter.

“Whatever web of fate and destiny we have found ourselves caught in,” Galahad's words were airy, distant things, “this was not the life to get it right for any of us.”

“Galahad?” Mordred rested his shoulder against the younger man's gently.

Kai rose to his feet, ready to intervene or help depending on what was going on.

Before he or Mordred could get anything from Galahad, Sif crashed into the room.

“What's going on?” she demanded.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Bedivere had narrowly side-stepped getting the door opened on him.

“The magics surging from this room are something I have not felt from another,” she shook her head, “I was afraid something had snuck in.”

“Somehow even more worrying,” Mordred bit out.

“Your fortunes are ready,” Sif sighed, “Would you like them written or spoken?”

“Written,” Bedivere said.

“Spoken,” Kai and Mordred said.

“Surprise me,” Galahad's voice was still unnaturally airy.

“I will be back in a moment with the written one,” she sighed.

Bedivere shut the door behind her.

“Galahad?” Mordred repeated.

“Knowing the magics of my father and knowing how to use them are not one and the same,” Galahad deflated, “I can tell, now, he not only knew how to use the magics he had, but his control over them was something that required both skill and sacrifice.”

“You think he could tell the future?” Kai asked as he sat back down.

Galahad shook his head. “I think he could see to the heart of a thing,” Galahad said, “A moment to moment sort of sight. What magics do you have, Kai?”

“Air and fire,” Kai answered, “when I can use them.”

“Did the fair folk who trained you say why you could only access your magics when your mind is clear?” Bedivere asked as he sat next to Kai.

“Not exactly,” Kai frowned, “They cannot lie, but getting a direct truth out of them was impossible. The closest I got was that I am a danger to myself and those around me when magic and the disquiet of my mind occupy the same space.”

Sif did not knock before entering.

“Written, sir,” she handed a folded piece of paper to Bedivere, “Kai, you are the truth that lies between fire and Ice. Galahad, your life will be spent giving of yourself to gain the clarity of wisdom. And Mordred, your life will be spent moving from family legacy to finding your own place in the world.”

The energy in the room stilled. Sif sighed.

“You four are the most curious group,” she told them, “Do as you will with your knowledge.”

And she was gone again.

“That wasn't weird or anything,” Kai mumbled as he stood to bolt the door.

“Sounded spot on for Mordred and me,” Galahad leaned into Mordred, “Kai, though, not sure I understand yours.”

“When two opposing forces meet,” Bedivere closed his eyes again, “there is a moment of impact where the truth behind the power of each can be seen. Alone, their power and capability is untested. Together, though, is where...” His words broke off, “Fuck, I knew this.”

“Fire and ice, though,” Galahad allowed himself to flop backwards on the bed, “when your magics are air and fire.”

“Air and fire are intrinsically linked,” Kai noted, “You cannot have one without the other. Fire and ice – or any type of water, really – cancel each other out one way of the other.”

“A moment of change!” Mordred exclaimed with so much enthusiasm that Galahad sat back up, startled, “The truth that can be found in a moment of change!”

“For both of you she said how you would spend your lives,” Bedivere fiddled with the slip containing his fortune, “but not Kai.”

“You're keeping yours to yourself,” Mordred noticed.

Bedivere did not respond.

“This evening has been so fucking weird,” Kai stood up, “and I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use the time between now and sleep to think about what it all means.”

“Understood,” Mordred nodded.

Bedivere rose and followed Kai out of the room. Mordred bolted the door behind them.

“Mo,” Galahad said softly.

Mordred responded by walking back over to the bed and lying down face-first.

“Mordred,” Galahad tried again.

“Fucking weird was a good word for it,” Mordred's words were muffled by the straw mattress.

Galahad laid down on his side so he could face Mordred.

“I'm worried about Bedivere,” Galahad said without preamble.

“He does get almost nasty and downright maudlin when his personal life or past come up,” Mordred turned his head towards Galahad.

“He's lived for Camelot his entire life, almost,” Galahad tried to find a point of empathy, “Now that Camelot is gone, he kind of has to examine what's going to carry him through the rest of it.”

“I hadn't considered that,” Mordred said as he shifted onto his side, facing Galahad, “Still, his temper is shorter than Kai's.”

Galahad nodded his agreement. “Hopefully they both can find some sort of peace.”

–

Bedivere set his pack down on the floor and shed his traveling clothes, not letting go of the paper during the entire process.

Kai watched him, only putting his packs on the floor, not wanting to miss anything.

“You're staring,” Bedivere said as if Kai did not know.

“I'd hope I'm allowed,” Kai teased. Bedivere chuckled, his body relaxing a little bit.

“You're allowed to do a lot more than stare,” Bedivere walked over to Kai and tugged at the hem of his outerwear, “but I feel this isn't about that.”

Kai huffed and nodded, such a slight thing Bedivere would have missed it if he blinked at the wrong time.

Bedivere took half a step back and finally unfolded his fortune.

“She got the name right,” Bedivere dropped the paper.

Kai was quick to pick it up and fold it again.

“You didn't want to see it?” Bedivere took the paper back.

“It's not mine to steal,” Kai told him.

Bedivere made a humming sound and took another look. “Moving towards a better life.”

“I am thankful one of us can read,” Kai tried to change the subject.

“You can read,” Bedivere blinked a few times. Kai rolled his eyes.

“Do you believe it?” Kai asked.

“That I'm moving towards a better life?” Bedivere let the paper fall to the floor again, “I do not know. But I'm moving towards something.” He stepped towards Kai again.

“Or someone,” Kai began unlacing his outerwear. Bedivere helped him with the task. Kai laughed, a sound much more free than all the night's sighs.

–

Breakfast was fresh bread with butter, bits of dried fruits soaked in some sort of rich, amber alcohol, and some odd scraps of meat cooked in their own fats until the richest parts had caramelized.

“Where are you men going next?” the barkeep asked.

Bedivere, Mordred, and Galahad looked to Kai.

“I think we're going to let the horses decide,” Kai shrugged.

“So you're the leader,” the barkeep didn't ask, “Have to be honest, I expected it to be Bedivere.”

Kai opened his mouth to refute his assumption – there was not a hierarchy, and he was absolutely not the leader.

“He is,” Galahad beat Kai to speaking. Kai scowled.

“Tell me,” the barkeep lowered his voice like he had when he told them what probably-Merlin had said, “what really happened.”

Everyone looked at Kai, whose shoulders dropped as he took a deep breath.

–

One of Arthur's oldest allies perceived a slight worth going to war over.

Simple as that, if you're not going to ask any more questions.

Of course, no war is simple, and no slight stands on its own.

The thought of peace, for some local lords and foreign kings alike, was a threat to their ability to flourish. Their names, their empires, their legacies – things they had built through fear, violence, and control so extreme good men died for trying to feed their children all winter without starving themselves.

Peace would not do.

So when King Lot's legacies from the northernmost allied lands thought it was worth challenging Arthur's - King Arthur's hold on Camelot, it was not terribly difficult to rouse smaller armies to fight alongside them.

Camelot and her king and his armies, however, met these haphazardly assembled armies blow for blow. What was supposed to help them win became their greatest weakness – men who had not trained together, not foraged the bonds war requires to survive as one found themselves taking on a much more coordinated force.

While ultimately all Kings involved fell, no one was left to claim Camelot for their own. Camelot lies open to claim, but she will crumble before she accepts someone who is not of the Pendragon bloodline.

–

The barkeep stared at Kai for what, to Kai, felt like entirely too long.

“Well,” the barkeep finally said, “I hope your horses pick somewhere more hospitable than this shithole.”

“Thanks,” was all Kai could say.

“We never got your name,” Mordred was quick to prevent the barkeep from asking any more questions about Orkney's campaign against Camelot.

“Thor,” the barkeep said with a chuckle, as if there was a joke the Company had missed.

“Well met, Thor,” Mordred tried to give as polite of a nod as possible.

“Travel well, you lot,” the barkeep waver them along.

The Company gathered their belongings and headed out to the stables, where they found their horses tacked and ready with no stablehand in sight.

“Huh,” was all Kai said before climbing onto his mount, “Who wants to let their horse decide where we're going?”

“Does the whole, well, the whole time we've been here not seem a little weird to you?” Mordred asked.

“Everything seems weird to me,” Kai replied effortlessly, “If we ever see Sif or Thor again, let's hope one of us remembers both their names and faces so that we don't seem terribly ill-mannered.”

“It's not like any of us were raised at court,” Galahad managed to keep a straight face.

“Their names sound so familiar,” Mordred shook his head before finally clamoring up on his beast.

“They do?” Bedivere stopped mid-mounting process.

“I can't place it,” Mordred frowned, “Anyways, this animal can pick.”

“Is no one going to tie their packs to their saddles?” Kai asked while he was in the middle of doing just that.

“You are the only person I have ever met who does that after mounting,” Bedivere informed him.

“I'll tie mine first break,” Galahad said with a shiver, “Sif may have had a lot to say about the magics last night, but something about this morning is making my skin crawl.”

Kai took a few grounding breaths, waited a few heartbeats, then tried to reach out to his own magics.

“I can't feel much,” Kai bypassed the fact he could feel anything at all, “but what I can feel seems...overly active.”

“Skin. Crawly,” Galahad repeated, “Mordred if you don't tell you animal to move I'm taking point.”

Mordred shook his head but gave his horse a kick anyways.

–

Thor watched the knights leave from the tavern window.

“What do you make of them?” he asked Sif.

“I think they’re still unsure of how they work together, nonetheless what’s coming. Do you think they'll put it all together?” Sif asked him from her table.

“If they're everything the Merlin's pinned on them,” Thor turned his attentions to his wife, “they will eventually.”

“It's a strange world where gods need to have faith in humans,” Sif sighed.

“Are they, though?” Thor wrapped his arms around her.

“Human?” she stopped for a moment to squeeze his arms.

“Because I don't think so,” he said by way of answering, “not entirely.”

“Well they're not gods,” Sif shook Thor off so she could resume her work.

“Not yet,” Thor grabbed his cleaning rag from the table he'd left it on, “Give it time, though.”

“Like your father had?” Sif took a moment to look at Thor, “Perhaps. In the meantime, we have plenty of things to tend to until their return.”

–

It was Mordred's turn for first watch, and he cursed the cold nights of early spring.

“The days seem so full of promise,” he said under his breath, “but the nights? Oh, no. The nights are fucking freezing.”

The watch point was too far from the last embers of the fire to do any good. He sat on a haphazardly thrown-together pile of logs and sticks to keep whoever had watch duty out of the mud.

He allowed himself to lean back far enough he could look up at the stars with ease. He debated, briefly, climbing a nearby tree so he could have something to lean against.

It was the thought of having to find his way back down in the dark that made him rethink his choices.

“Finding my own place in the world,” he said to the stars, “What if this is my place? What to the rest of my life, then?”

He hoped that, if he listened hard enough, the stars would give him an answer.


End file.
